


Reaping the Whirlwind

by frogfarm



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Challenge Response, Community: femslash_kink, Dubious Consent, F/F, Identity Issues, Illusions, Loss of Innocence, Self-cest, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogfarm/pseuds/frogfarm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Storm knows you can't go home again. But sometimes, a lie can lead you to the truth.</p><p>Pre-Uncanny X-Men #170/post-Uncanny X-Men #173.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaping the Whirlwind

**Author's Note:**

> For [ femslash_kink](https://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/15813.html?thread=2144965#cmt2144965). Pre-Uncanny X-Men #170/post-Uncanny X-Men #173.
> 
> Requested: Storm/Mystique, transformation (Storm wants to fuck herself)
> 
> "It's got some dubcon in it. Rather a lot, really."

"It is a trick." But her feeble insistence rings as false and hollow as her soul.

"You know it in your heart." Mystique circles her, wearing a cruel smile. The shock of a near-shorn skull, combined with the the spiked, blatant defiance of the remaining hair, renders her double's more modest tight leather pants and jacket paradoxically more obscene than her own far skimpier clothing. Long accustomed to nudity, Ororo has always taken pride in her body, refusing to hide or give in to shame. Now she squirms, helpless, stripped to the bone under that hungry and unrelenting gaze.

"You know Destiny's power." Her doppelganger trails one finger down Storm's cheek, along her exposed shoulder. Ororo can smell the leather of the fingerless glove. It makes her weak in the knees, even as she wonders how it can be part of the illusion.

"She saw your future, Windrider." The older woman continues, relentless. "And now, I share that vision...with you."

"No!" Ororo refuses to close her eyes. "My destiny is my own --"

"Your destiny is mine." Her body betrays her as her double takes hold of the fabric of her meager costume, giving a gentle but nonetheless threatening tug. " _You_ are mine."

"Never," Ororo whispers.

Fingers twine through her hair, grab and pull. Storm shudders as lips graze her throat. Mystique's triumph is tinged with regret.

"All too soon."

 

* * *

 

It's not quite the same, because Mystique can't duplicate her powers. So they can't fly together; there is no breath of tropical humidity when they kiss, no subtle spark of static when she first takes herself in hand. Ororo thinks her daughter could do that, the one they call Rogue, then kisses harder in a doomed attempt to forget who's really in her arms. And in every other respect, the illusion is perfect: Herself as she was, before Callisto and Yukio and a hundred other sins and betrayals. The goddess she had once been, untouched by the ravages of experience; wearing a modest white robe, waist-length hair that flowed in luxurious waves, and the perfect expression of confusion and joyful submission as Storm gently pushes her back down onto the bed. That woman was gone forever, and yet for the first time since Kitty fled from her in tears, Ororo can feel herself come alive.


End file.
